Blackberry Crumble Read Free Page B

is.” A slight pleading had entered her tone, confirming how serious she was about this.
     
    With that, she turned and headed for the back doors, keeping her head down. The other women glanced at her briefly before returning to their discussion.Sadie’s mind was already filling with questions as she glanced down at the phone number, noting that the first three numbers weren’t a Colorado area code. She looked up again, wondering if she should follow May Sanderson and get more information, but the younger woman was already gone, leaving Sadie to field the questions left in her wake. Why did she think her father had been murdered? When had it happened? What would Pete say when she told him about this?
     
    “Coming through!”
     
    Sadie quickly stepped aside to make way for Pete, whose arms were wrapped around an enormous punch bowl, filled nearly to the brim with dark red punch. Glenda hadn’t been kidding when she said it was too full for the ladies in the kitchen to carry. Pete was taking tiny steps and still the punch threatened to tidal wave out of the bowl at any moment. He began lowering his entire body, bending at the knee but keeping his back straight, so as to put the bowl down on the table without spilling.
     
    Sadie saw the newspaper at the last possible moment, right where the punch bowl was headed. She reached for it quickly, startling Pete in the process. A wave of punch sloshed forward, splashing onto the table, the newspaper, and a cookie tray, before compensating by going backward, soaking Pete’s apron.
     
    Sadie gasped and raised a hand to her mouth while one of the women exclaimed from the other side of the table. Pete set the bowl down on the now punch-covered table.
     
    “I’m so sorry,” Sadie said as Pete stood up, revealing that his apron was completely soaked. He quickly untied it, and Sadie was dismayed to see that the punch had turned his powder-blue shirt a lovely shade of lavender. She looked around for some napkins before realizing they hadn’t been set out yet.
     
    “I’ll get some paper towels,” one of the women said. She came around the table and headed through the door that led to the kitchen. Pete wiped at his shirt with a dry part of his apron, but it didn’t do any good.
     
    “I’m so sorry,” Sadie said again, moving toward him, feeling horrible. The woman returned with a roll of paper towels a moment later, and the other women began blotting and cleaning up the punch. Pete took a few paper towels and backed out of their way as he wiped at his own clothing.
     
    Sadie watched as one of the women picked up the punch-soaked newspaper by one soggy corner, not even glancing at the headline, and tossed it in the big gray trash can behind the table, along with most of the blueberry muffin tops, also ruined.
     
    “What happened?” Pete asked.
     
    “I’m so sorry,” Sadie said for a third time, embarrassed to be the cause of such a mess. “I was trying to get the newspaper out of the way.”
     
    “What newspaper?”
     
    “The Post, ” Sadie said, her eyes going for the garbage can again. “The red-haired woman who came in before you went into the kitchen brought it.” Her eyes went back to Pete. “I’m in it.”
     
    “Sadie, do you have any more of those cookies we can set out?” one of the ladies asked. The table and floor were mostly cleaned up.
     
    Glenda walked through the doorway. “Sadie, Paul is running late with the meat trays. Has he called you?” She stopped short when she noticed the mess. “What happened?”
     
    The women hurried to explain. Glenda looked at Sadie with surprise and disappointment. “We’ve got five minutes to finish setting everything up!” she said, her voice rising with every word. As if waiting for such an introduction, the back doors opened and another group of club members entered the gym.
     
    “Um,” Sadie said, trying to think of an explanation as Glenda’s hands went to her hips.
     
    “Where’s the